


Day 1, After

by Phils_Constellation_Heart



Category: IT - Stephen King
Genre: M/M, Reddie, and then like, i just wanted to spill my feelings about them but make it a fic, idk weird metaphors and poetry like shit happened, its soft dont worry, just take this i guess, no idea what this is, this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-03
Updated: 2020-04-03
Packaged: 2021-03-01 07:22:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 573
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23467576
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Phils_Constellation_Heart/pseuds/Phils_Constellation_Heart
Summary: After everything, they can just breathe.
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak & Richie Tozier, Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Kudos: 2





	Day 1, After

And as sunlight bled through the crackled blinds, crawling up the sheets, tugging at cotton corners and wooden frames, Richie lays still. Eyes, still heavy with sleep, still heavy with wear, watch Eddie’s subtle breaths. Hooded by blankets, he sighs once in his slumber, adjusting only to be closer, as if the dream fairy whispered that he was drifting too far. Richie reaches out, an action no longer daunted by uncertainty, and runs his thumb across Eddie’s cheek. 

It trails down past the stubble hills, and he closes his eyes as it bumps into the edge of his scar, only finding its home to rest on the corner of Eddie’s lips. They twitch, and Richie feels a warmth bubble up into his veins. He runs his thumb ever so lightly across Eddie’s bottom lip before pulling it back to his chest. Richie’s fingers graze his own collarbone, igniting the glow of kisses that Eddie left there last night, and he feels his soul take a skip. He adjusts out of his crease in the bed, a movement once plagued, and reaches out again, this time aiming for the russet locks that frizzly lay on Eddie’s head. His hair is soft, softer than the featheriest of pillows, against Richie’s calloused fingertips. He watches as each strand seems to catch the sun, illuminating like a dark earth seeing day for the first time in years. He ruffles it slightly, earning a grumble from the man attached, and Richie can’t help but let out a breathy chuckle.

With another groan, Eddie stirs.

“Morning sleeping beauty.” Richie says, the honeyed tone dripping on the conversation as he gives his head a comforting scratch. Eddie smiles, and Richie’s heart holds onto his lungs, tugging the organs just enough to take his breath for a moment. He smiles back, this time actually feeling like the smile reached his heart.

“Good morning Richie.” Eddie says, moving the comfort of Richie’s silhouette.

The first sleep after it all, after the final fight (both Neibolt and negation), after cliff diving, after painful goodbyes and worse off hellos, meeting the wife, almost ending a life, hospital visits and therapist calls. Divorce lawyers, drunken confessions (and then sober confessions because the drunken one didn’t hit right), teary kisses, moving vans, realtor battles, cockroaches and ants and that one tire that just can’t keep the pressure, they had their first sleep together. Not sex, no, just sleep. 

Two bodies, two bodies that had been wrung dry of oxygen, now able to take in their first full breath together.

Richie pulls Eddie close, the sleepy heat of his skin, the beat of his heart.  
Oh, the beat. The beat that plays not like a song, but a memory. Something that stays in his mind, keeping time with the clocks and the I love yous to come, topped off with complaints of shower hogging and dirty sock leaving. With each tick it drops a new seed into the ground, a new sapling, to grow as big as a Redwood memory. Richie doesn’t have to hope or pray he knows, he just knows that his mind will be a forest now, a forest thriving of nothing but blissful ardency. 

Eddie plants another sapling, this time in the form of a kiss. 

And the sunlight still bleeds through the crackled blinds, but Richie doesn’t need to catch it in a cup and save it for a rainy day anymore.

**Author's Note:**

> I HOPE YOU LIKED THIS WEIRD THING I'm probably going to pull lines from it and make some poetry but I just really wanted to spill out some kinda weird metaphors and just overall it's a huge writing exercise. I figured someone would enjoy it still idk IDK


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